Billionaire Redemption

Chapter 7

Ayra’s POV

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It’s been exactly two weeks since I was discharged from the hospital. Fourteen whole days locked up in my room, away from the world… away from them.

And by them, I mean my dad and Marla. It’s strange, scarily peaceful. No yelling. No banging on my door. No slurred voices from drunken nights. Nothing.

I haven’t heard their voices. Not even footsteps. The silence has stretched long enough that I’ve started wondering if I’ve gone deaf… or if they’re even still in this house. But I’m not complaining. I’ve enjoyed every second of the quiet.

I sit cross-legged on my bed, my phone resting against my thighs, textbooks opened around me like a fortress. Mama Tee got me this phone after I was discharged, and honestly, it’s been the best thing that’s happened to me in years.

I’ve downloaded apps for final year exam prep, past questions, even study timers. I’ve missed too many classes. My final year exams are coming. I don’t have the luxury to waste time.

I take another practice test.

Question: What part of the brain controls balance and coordination?

Options:

A. Cerebrum

B. Medulla

C. Cerebellum

D. Hypothalamus

I click Cerebellum and grin when I see the green tick.

“Smart girl,” I whisper to myself, smirking. Maybe all those nights of reading by flashlight when I was supposed to be asleep are finally paying off.

I move on to the next section, flipping through my biology notes. Then suddenly, my screen flickers with a new notification. A news pop-up from one of those business blogs I’ve been following since I decided I wanted more from life than just survival.

The headline reads:

*Unseen: Rare Candid of Leon Kael Working at Phoenicia Site.*

My thumb freezes mid-scroll. My breath hitches.

Leon Kael.

In Phoenicia?

My heart does a little jump at the name. That same man whose face has been living rent-free in my head since the first day I stumbled across his profile.

Powerful, intimidating, successful and fine as sin. The CEO of KaelCorp Global. Owner of multiple brands, pharmaceuticals, fashion hubs, restaurants, real estate, tech… name it. His name is on everything.

I click the article.

And there he is.

Leon Kael, sitting at a long table surrounded by men in suits, his face calm, focused, commanding. A perfect blend of danger and beauty. His black hair slicked back like it obeys him, piercing blue eyes fixed on a document, sharp jaw clenched slightly, sleeves rolled just above his elbows revealing strong, veined arms. His lips… still and unreadable. And that posture, like a king in his domain.

But it’s not just him that catches my attention this time.

It’s the background.

I squint at the photo.

Wait…

That… that looks familiar.

My eyes trail the edges of the photo, and suddenly it hits me. That tree. That broken fence. That old grey building barely visible behind him. I know that place.

That’s near my school.

Exactly near the back of the field where we sometimes sneak out for fresh air.

My breath catches.

“No way…” I whisper.

I check the time the article was posted.

Five minutes ago.

My heart slams into my chest. “He’s this near?!!” I yell, my voice echoing around the room.

Adrenaline hits me like lightning.

I scramble to my feet, wince slightly as my healing leg protests, but I don’t care. I limp to the mirror, grab a hair tie, and pack my hair into a rough ponytail.

It’s not neat, but who cares? I toss on a hoodie, jam my feet into sneakers, and drop to my knees beside the bed.

Sliding my hand underneath, I search until my fingers find the cold metal. The key. The same key I swore I wouldn’t touch unless it was a matter of life or death.

Well, meeting Leon Kael in real life?

That might as well be both.

I pull it out, grip it tightly in my palm, and laugh softly.

Surprising, right?

Well, my leg healed about three days ago ago. It still stings a little, but not enough to stop me.

I limp to the door, slide the key into the lock, and twist.

Click.

The door creaks open, and I step into the hallway. Still no voices. No movement. Not even a shadow.

I hold my phone tightly and bolt well, as fast as someone healing from a thigh wound can.

I leap down the steps, the wind brushing against my face, my chest rising and falling with excitement and fear.

Leon Kael is here.

In Phoenicia.

Right now.

I don’t know what I’ll say if I see him. I don’t know what I’m hoping for. But one thing is clear, after years of darkness, a tiny flame has sparked inside me.

And I’m not about to let it burn out. Not today. Not without chasing it.

**

The air was filled with excited murmurs, the kind of energy that crackled like static before a storm. I leaned on my walking stick as I made my way toward the massive building behind the school grounds, a sleek glass and steel structure rising amid the trees of Phoenicia. For someone like me, who moved through life quietly, every step felt loud.

The area was packed. People in designer jackets and high heels, teenagers with phones raised, photographers with professional lenses, families with children. I scanned the crowd, uncertain what I was looking for, but I knew I was looking for him.

“Leon,” I whispered under my breath, as if saying the name would summon him.

I reached a small clearing beside the building’s entrance. I leaned against a low stone wall, the pain in my leg whispering reminders that I wasn’t fully healed yet, but I ignored it. Because whatever this was... felt bigger than my pain.

I turned to a woman beside me, wearing a badge *Event Staff* printed on it.

“Excuse me,” I asked quietly, “Do you know where he is? Mr. Kael?”

The woman smiled, courteous but vague.

“He went inside the building there,” she indicated with a nod toward the huge doors. “Can’t say where exactly, this is an open event, first time many of us are seeing him too.”

I swallowed. “Do you know where he bought the land?” I asked.

Her head tilted slightly. “Ah… sorry, I don’t live here. Just came to see him.” She gave a polite laugh, and turned away.

So many people, all here for him.

I found a bench further back under a tree. My leg wobbled but I settled down and squeezed the stick firmly. Hours passed. I alternated between studying the facade of the building (glass reflecting the sky, steel beams like ribs), watching waiting crowd, and listening to snippets of conversation.

My phone lay beside me, notes open, but I wasn’t reading. Not really. My mind was caught on the idea of him.

Then suddenly, a ripple in the crowd. Heads turned. Cameraphones lifted. The murmur became a roar.

And there he was.

Leon Kael emerged from the building, black sunglasses covering his eyes, a tailored midnight‑black suit, his hand tucked in his pocket, a simple move, but it made him look like someone who didn’t care if the world watched or not. About a dozen guards flanked him. The crowd surged.

My heart pounded.

“Leon! Over here!” someone shouted.

I stood up, gripping my stick tighter. My leg protested but I ignored it.

I pushed forward through the crowd, breath short. Some people stepped aside. Some swept past me. The scent of cologne, the flash of cameras, the chatter, it all blurred.

And then I fell.

The crowd’s wave knocked me off balance. My legs tangled. One second I was standing; the next I was down. Pain shot through the thigh wound but shock louder than the pain.

Faces diverted. Whispers. Gasps.

“What happened?” “Is she okay?”

My eyes flicked up toward him.

Leon Kael paused. The sunglasses hid the expression on his eyes but his head turned my way.

My throat felt dry. I couldn’t speak. My phone slipped from my hand and clattered on the pavement.

“Help her!” Leon’s voice was calm but firm. His guard knelt beside me, helped me to my feet. My heart hammered like it would escape.

Every eye in the crowd was on me now. Photographers clicked. Smiling but cruel.

My cheeks burned.

Leon Kael? He saw me.

Me.

He helped me up. The stick in my hand.

Then he nodded, almost imperceptibly. His image flashed in my mind again: that sculpted jaw, the dark hair, the imposing height.

He turned and headed toward a row of black cars waiting nearby. Camera flashes followed as the first car door opened, and he slid in. The driver closed the door. The engine roared.

The car moved off, slick, silent. The guard was at my side but he held back now. The crowd parted for the car’s path.

I stood frozen. My leg throbbed, but the pain didn’t matter right now.

Leon Kael saw me.

And he didn’t look away.